Rescue You
by liciaxo
Summary: voldemort has taken over, Harry has to go underground and the world begins to become more difficult for everyone


**Entry 1 – The world is changing**

I was once a young woman of powerful status and control my family was upstanding and held positions in all the right places. I was well liked, revered even, and I was cocky enough to believe that this would never change. But how are you to predict that the world you know will turn upside down. Mine did, I saw it, I was there.

But then I realize you know that, don't you? You've lived it too, or it's been documented in your history books...I suppose I am writing simply to keep my mind clear and get my feelings out, however I guess you deserve a little background information.

My parents came from wealthy pureblood families and married young. My mother was a frail woman, she didn't take illness well, and passed away from one of many bouts with pneumonia when I was eight. My father mourned for many years but eventually remarried a woman he had met at the Ministry. My new stepmother was good for us, but she was also the root of our current problems.

Voldemort, yes I dare say the name, has taken over. The ministry fell over a year ago and with it came a multitude of changes, Muggleborns were rounded up and sent to camps, half-bloods forced to prove their lineage, and heaven forbid you were a sympathizer because you were treated even worse. Harry Potter and his comrades had been forced into hiding. The once proud and powerful Order of the Phoenix was practically demolished by Death Eaters, the majority of its members murdered or sent into other camps.

It started out slowly and innocently, people didn't want to believe that Voldemort held the power he did. But then laws preventing those of impure blood to have a wand came into effect, laws limiting their movements, forcing them to wear bands over all their clothing so they were easily identified. Mass blood testing began to occur, healers forced to find a genetic code for those with a magical gene. We were also forced to prove our lineage, and had to carry cards with our family histories on them.

My family was in danger, it was well known that my stepmother was of Muggle origin, and therefore we were all submitted to routine testing. My parents tried desperately to help; we took on a great multitude of muggleborns and half-bloods as servants even though they were unnecessary, we hid their existence in our vast home. My step mother was forced into hiding in our own home.

I was safe, I was pureblood; I ran in pureblood circles, my father was not so lucky.

The raids began; Death Eaters forced their way into homes, searching for people hiding muggleborns. Rewards began being placed on the head of every muggleborn found, people became desperate and neighbours were turning in their own friends for a chance to save themselves and perhaps earn an extra buck. Those hiding muggleborns faced much the same risk as muggleborns themselves; we'd all heard the rumours, heard of the camps, and the torture they evoked. My father urged me to move out of the manse hoping that it would save me even if they were captured.

Plans had been made for my move into a friend's apartment, but there was not enough time. Two days before my planned date of departure, Death Eaters swarmed the manor and put us all into questioning about hiding muggleborns. My father and I were separated and asked a long variety of questions, we were pureblood so we were not subjected to Viritaserum, but I could feel my questioner's dark eyes boring into me trying to search through my mind through Occlumency. I had perfected my shields long before, knowing the possibility of capture, and blocked his advances letting him see only what he wanted, but still he pressed me. I could have used my own Legillimens on him had I not noticed the looks he was giving me.

I turned on the charm instead. I don't mean to be conceited but men have always been attracted to me, I look so much like my mother, and I know very well how to exploit it. Before long he was wrapped around my finger, accepting that I knew nothing of people hiding in my house and that I had no idea what happened to my step mother. My father on the other hand was not so strong; his shields had fallen out of fear and lack of concentration, so he was sent off along with the rest to the camps.

I was sent to a prison complex for sympathetic purebloods, guilty by association. But I was lucky, my questioner had convinced the others of my innocence so I was placed in a nicer wing, and allowed to take with me a suitcase of clothing, though I was supervised while packing. I took with me many layers, unsure of what to really expect, packing them into a case that had been lined with money and ensuring I put in several of the dresses I knew to have galleons sew into the seams.

My questioner returned to my suite of rooms when I finished packing, dismissing the other man, and again I charmed him into allowing me to take a second bag. This one I packed with nightwear and lingerie ensuring that he noticed the items I was choosing to pack. Lacy nightgowns and sheer underwear went into the bag alongside socks stuffed with money and my cleansing products. I was a pureblood, I needed to maintain that aura in front of them, I needed to seem as though I was above the packing, as though I needed my things to survive.

My questioner remained in the doorway watching me, I could feel his eyes on my back as I blew through my rooms, I would have been flattered if I wasn't so afraid. I finished my packing and turned back to him my hair flipping over my shoulder in what I knew was a look that suited me. I took on a haughty look on my face as though I was above this and looked to my bags, sighing heavily as though it was a task I was not used to doing myself I picked them up and carried them out past my questioner, brushing myself against him as I passed.

I was led out of the house by my questioner and a contingent of men, passing my family and all of those who were hidden in my house, they were being held in a grouping off to the side of the doorway. My father called for me, as did many of the others calling to me, begging me to save them, to tell them where I was going. I didn't answer; I had to maintain my performance. I was shuffled into a car, seated in the back seat with a Death Eater on either side, my questioner sat in the front passenger seat and another man took the driver's seat, at a nod from my questioner we pulled out of my drive way and onto the roads. I dared not look back but a single tear slid down my face.

That day is now a fixture in my dreams, as are the days that came after it.

This morning I jolted awake, a loud voice shouting down my hall for us to get up for the day. Groaning I donned my silk robe, it was becoming threadbare I noticed, and stood with my basket of toiletries behind my door ready to be shuffled down the hallway to the shower complex. The gated bars slid open and I stepped out into the small line of women and men and together we shuffled down the hall. The showers were one of the only times when we were able to see and speak to each other, though we had to be sure that our voices remained quiet. I knew many of those on my floor, some were old school mates, others people who ran in the same social circles as I had. The showers were co-ed, and freezing, but each cubicle had walls high enough that they would cover the majority of my body, but the lack of a curtain meant that anyone behind me would have a full view.

"Lena, have you heard anything?" my friend Rosalie, who held the shower stall beside me, whispered.

"Nothing, you?" I whispered back.

"No but, Jon heard a rumour that they were moving a load of workers here from one of the other camps."

"Did he hear anything more?" I met eyes with Jon who was across from us, giving him a meaningful look.

Jon leaned closer to our side, on the pretext of rinsing his hair out and whispered something to Rose.

"He says that he thinks they'll be in charge of our laundry and other things like that...staying in the yard houses." Rose grimaced.

We all had heard things about the yard houses; they remained on the other side of the fence from our exercise yard. A stench rose up from them periodically and flashes of green light were commonly seen coming from them. We knew what was happening but had no real way to help.

"Anything from the outside?" I whispered back, knowing that our time would soon be cut short.

"Nothing, just things overheard from the guards, Potter's still out there." She said

"Then there's hope," I finished, as the water turned off and we dried off to be sent back down the halls.

I arrived back at my cell and the memories washed over me once more, memories of the first day I was here, being thrown into my cell. In the first building they forced me to strip down, though there was the nicety of a female guard this time, and they took my measurements and several pictures of me holding a placard with my name and a number on it. They did this to all of us, gave us a number and a color tag to tell everyone what we had done to deserve placement in this wretched place. Then it was into a dress, luckily I was allowed to keep the clothes I had packed, though the case was searched for food or valuables, my necklaces were taken but they never found those items hidden in my clothes and the money in the lining of the case.

Then I was shuffled into another room where my wand was taken and imprinted, so I would be indicated if it was used for anything more than lumos or simple spells. Then they walked me across the yard, past the yard houses, and into the prison block. I think this was done so that I would know the consequence for the muggleborns I had helped; the people who walked through the yard beyond the fence were caked over with mud and countless other things I didn't want to think of. Knowing my role I lifted my head and turned away, ever the pure blood, but inside my heart was breaking.

In the prison block they led me into an office where the head guard looked me over, pushed a box at me and nodded at the door. As I went to leave he grabbed my wrist, "I know you." he said.

I turned back to him, turning my wrist so my hand was in his, "Lena Greengrass, your friend Malfoy is dating my cousin Astoria."

"How far the mighty have fallen, Miss Greengrass,"

"I'll be seeing you Zabini...and I'm sure it will be as enjoyable as it was the last time."

I smirked at Blaise, the head guard, allowing myself to be led from the office and down to my cell, where the guard roughly pushed me inside and the metal doors clanged shut. Oh yes, I knew Blaise Zabini, Astoria and I were close and Blaise was Draco's best friend. One fateful night Blaise and I had found ourselves in a bedroom alone after having a bit too much to drink. Oh yes, I knew him, and I knew that he was not a pureblood manic...in that moment I realized, I had an ally in this place.

Even after the six months I had been here my guards still watched me, I knew they did. There was no privacy; I had to dress in my room with the doors essentially wide open. It was something I tried to ignore, and tried to get dressed in as covered a way as possible, I would keep my robe on as long as possible and by the disappointed looks on their faces when I turned back around I knew they hadn't seen anything.

I hadn't seen hide or hair of Blaise since the day I was brought in, and I was slightly disappointed but there was nothing to be done for it. My usual guard was the man who had brought me in, and though he leered he did nothing more, I tried my best to keep it that way, and made sure to be extra courteous to him.

Today was an exercise day, which meant that we would be sent outside into the yard. Usually this meant a chance to gather and talk to the other prisoners, hoping to hear something we hadn't heard already. Today however, I was worried, if the rumours were true they would be receiving a new shipment of muggleborns for the yard houses. Seeing them was always depressing, but I grabbed several extra sweaters as I did every time a new shipment came in layering them over my normal clothing under the pretence of extra warmth, but really I took them so that those who weren't so lucky would have a better chance of surviving the harsh elements that faced them outside at all times.

We tramped down the halls and stairs to the outside door; here we were searched for food and other things that may be of help to the outside prisoners. The guards didn't blink an eye at a few extra layers, it was late fall and I would put forth a well-timed cough when I went through which would explain my need for a few extra sweaters. Once through the check point we went out into the yard, our side was grassy and featured a few trees. But through the fence we could see the yard houses, surrounded by mud and trampled earth, and as always a terrible stench of unwashed people rose from them over to us.

Jon and Rose had come out onto the yard before me and were standing against the one of the trees closest to the fence. They had been in the complex much longer than me and had connected I knew. But relationships here were near impossible, we were separated all the time, I did not want to intrude but we had to find a way to get these sweaters over the fence without the guards noticing. We could get too near the fence, it was cursed with something akin to the cruciatus, and anyone who touched it was almost instantly electrocuted and dropped to the ground. I had been there to see it, and it was horrible, the man's body had been jerking on the ground for a moment before the guards came up and dragged him off. He was never seen again.

I crossed over to my friends, and smiled as I noticed their intertwined hands. "I have sweaters today, it's not much but with winter coming it should help them." I murmured coming around the tree to the opposite side from the guards on our side of the fence. They didn't patrol this way very often and the tree's thick branches reached up over the fence into their yard. I shimmied up the trunk, careful not to let my hands be seen around the other side, the others kept watch for me, and when I reached the lower-most branch they passed up their small bundles. Jon had an old pair of shoes he had clearly outgrown, they were threadbare but at least had solid soles, and Rose had managed a few pairs of pants that had become too large for her. Once high enough in the tree I shrugged out of the extra sweaters I was wearing wrapping the entire thing in Rose's dark brown pants and at a signal from Jon tossed them over to the other side of the fence. The timing had to be just right so that the guards on both sides of the fence didn't notice the bundle fall, and it had to be able to blend into the muddy landscape on the other side.

Just after the bundle dropped and I popped down from the tree the door to the closest yard house opened and a row of people filed out. This was strange; they usually didn't allow the others out when we were outside lest we get it into our heads to help them. Something was going on today, though none of us knew exactly what. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they were ordered into lines by their number. More were coming from the other houses as well, forming into strict lines in front of their assigned house.

"Roll call," Jon murmured through clenched teeth, "they need to know how many extras they can shove into each house."

As he spoke I realized he was right, there were gaps between people and occasionally a person would sway a little. They were trying to see how many had died, I understood now, counting how many muggleborns and traitors they had killed since the last shipment came in. They want us to see this I realized, they want us to know what they're capable of.

"This is barbaric," Rosalie whispered clutching at Jon's hand for support.

"But what can we do? Nothing...we can't do a thing." I answered her, my spirits falling for what seemed like the billionth time since entering this place.

We watched the guards go up and down the rows calling off numbers and marking things down while the poor people were forced to stand, some swaying from weariness. They faced us though few had enough strength or daring to meet our watching eyes. I thought I recognized a few people from my school years at Hogwarts, but couldn't place them in my mixed up memories.

One girl met my eyes, daring to look up in the few moments when a guard moved onto another row. I definitely knew her from before, though I couldn't remember her name. Her eyes met mine and I shifted my gaze towards the bundle under the tree, indicating to her that we had tried to help in some way. Her eyes moved towards the bundle and back again, her eyes showing her gratefulness though her face remained impassive.

"I will help you." I said, mainly to myself but she appeared to have seen my lips move too and looking down at the ground so I nearly missed it she mouthed back "please."


End file.
